


The Impossible Test

by fhartz91



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dystopia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 03:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: Blaine is chosen for the distinction of representing his territory in an annual event called ‘The Impossible Test’. At the training center, he meets Kurt, one of the previous year's participants, who clues Blaine into the fact that the 'privilege' he's been crowned with may not be the honor he thinks it is.





	The Impossible Test

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't Hunger Games inspired or Divergent inspired. I swear. I don't want to tell you guys what inspired it, because it sounds kind of bad xD This is another fic re-write. Just mentioning it for anyone who recognizes it so you don't get on my case. I always thought this was kind of brilliant. Let me know what you think :)

Blaine stepped out of the transport that delivered him to the training center, the fantastic fanfare that saw him off still ringing in his ears. Eleven long years he had waited, dreaming of volunteering since he was six. Even at that tender age, he saw himself as a natural-born victor. Of course, no one _knew_ for certain what a victor of The Impossible Test looked like. They never returned to their territories, and rightfully so. After winning The Impossible Test, it was assumed that victors earned their places in high society – government employment, penthouse apartments, a life of luxury. Once a volunteer left their home for the training center, they were never seen nor heard from again. The only evidence a territory got that their volunteer had won was the enormous wealth and numerous other prizes that the government showered upon them.

Losing territories were punished, often times in the form of a fine. These hefty fines bankrupted many territories. Even the richer territories, the ones that consistently won, could be bankrupted by a single loss, which is why the competition to become a volunteer was so steep, the preparation rigorous and demanding. The second children displayed “volunteer potential”, they started studying immediately, and it took over their entire lives. Nearly every waking moment was devoted to it. Blaine’s territory had been among the winners the last twenty-two years, and he was determined to make this year twenty-three.

Even though Blaine had been informed of his appointment to The Impossible Test weeks before, he was still buzzing from the thrill of being chosen. His territory boasted the greatest number of volunteers every year. Hundreds of children applied for the honor of being considered. But Blaine was _chosen_. He was the best overall – mentally and physically. Blaine carried the hopes of his territory with him. His classmates envied him. People he’d never met before stopped him on the street and shook his hand. His last week at home, he was treated like a king. Even his judgmental ass of a father finally started treating him with some respect.

But as great as the notoriety and popularity of being named a volunteer felt, Blaine couldn’t wait to actually _win_.

Today was the first day of the rest of his life.

After getting settled in his room – a small living space made to be mostly utilitarian in form and function – he ducked out of the official tour of the training facility and decided to scope the place out on his own. He needed time to himself after the flurry of attention and activity to clear his head, get his bearings.

The training center was its own territory, set apart from the rest by miles of treacherous, wild, uninhabited country, and crossable solely by an underground railway system. One train originated from each territory, accessible only by authorized government personnel and volunteers.

That meant Blaine was among the elite.

He could definitely get used to that.

He spent his whole day exploring the grounds, wandering through the city, popping in and out of shops that sold merchandise he’d never seen before, and listening to people speak in languages he’d never heard. It was a whole new world, and he tried to absorb every inch of it, daydreaming of where his place would be in this society after he won.

He made his way outside the city to a vast expanse of green grass and tall trees that grew up suddenly the minute the sidewalk ended. He took a gravel trail through them, marked every ten feet or so with signs that had the name of a victor on it. Blaine smiled. He knew about this park. His guide on the train had mentioned it. Each sign was erected in honor of those who had won The Impossible Test. He noticed a few familiar sounding names – volunteers from his territory who had won in the past. He wondered if they walked through here from time to time to gaze upon the sign with their name on it and relive their victory. He tried to envision the perfect spot for _his_ sign. Maybe over by the clearing, where the God rays streamed in through the leaves, or by that small patch of Forget-Me-Nots, provided they bloomed there every year, of course.

There had to be a caretaker or someone he could ask - nonchalantly, so he didn’t seem too full of himself.

Blaine didn’t feel he _was_  full of himself, per se. He was simply confident in his abilities.

There was no sin in rooting for the best man to win.

Farther down the now winding path that ran between the trees, he heard tapping, like the sharp _thut-thut-thut_ of a woodpecker knocking on bark. Blaine looked around in the hopes of catching a peek at the bird. There were so many of them in his territory, and though he wasn’t homesick, it would be nice to see one again.

But the sound wasn’t coming from a bird, but a boy – a melancholy-looking rail of a boy – tapping the side of a tree with a stick. From this distance and with his back turned, all Blaine could see was that he appeared to be an inch or two taller than Blaine, with light brown hair, the same shade as the nuts that fell from the chestnut trees back home. As Blaine got closer, he noticed this boy was much paler than him, lithe and thin to the point of looking malnourished. The boy must have heard the ground crunch beneath Blaine’s feet because he turned his head, fixing Blaine with eyes that shined a brilliant periwinkle in the golden sunlight. The boy didn’t seem startled by Blaine’s approach, just wary. Even so, he returned to his tree, tapping his stick against the trunk.

“Hey,” Blaine called.

“Hey,” the boy called back. “Are you lost?” His voice was high and soft – lilting and musical, but also sad.

“No,” Blaine replied, though he didn’t find the need to mention that he probably wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. “I’m out for a little walk. I just got here today.”

The boy nodded once and stopped his tapping.

“You’re here to take The Impossible Test.”

“Yes, I am,” Blaine said with pride in his response. The boy must have heard it, too, because he scoffed. “My name’s Blaine. What’s your name?”

The boy sighed deeply, debating for a moment before responding.

“My name is Kurt.”

“Kurt,” Blaine repeated. “Are you here for The Impossible Test, too?”

“You can say that.” Kurt held the stick in both hands, bending it in the middle until it almost broke, then letting go so it could snap back straight. “I was a participant in last year’s Impossible Test.”

“So, you’re a victor?” Blaine asked, his eyes lighting up.

“No.” Kurt shook his head, his gaze focused on the stick in his hands. “I failed, so I’m taking it again.”  

Blaine could feel the devastation roll off Kurt’s body through his slowly spoken words and his long, dramatic sighs. He felt so sorry for him. He was a beautiful boy – a sorrowfully, heartbreakingly beautiful boy. It would be amazing to have this boy as his friend ... as long as it didn’t get in the way of his winning.

But if they both won, they would be in the city together.

Who knew where that might lead?

“Well, at least you get to try again,” Blaine consoled him, but he understood why Kurt was upset.

Losing The Impossible Test was no small matter. It had devastating consequences.

“You get five chances total to win The Impossible Test,” Kurt explained, “but because of my failure, my territory was fined.” Kurt bent the stick again until Blaine heard it crack. “The fine for my territory was so high, it turned them into the poorest territory in the country. Even if I win this time, it might not be enough for them to recover.” He sniffled. “I---I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said, but silently he reassured himself that he wasn’t going to let that same thing happen to _his_ territory. He would win. Hell or high water, he would win.

He got an idea. It seemed underhanded considering, but strategically, it was an excellent move. Besides, maybe underhanded wasn’t entirely uncalled for.

He came here to win, after all.

Losing was unthinkable.

“How did you fail?” Blaine asked, hoping to get some first-hand insight and possibly an advantage. “I mean, no one knows exactly what The Impossible Test is. What’s the objective? What did you do wrong?”

Kurt bent the stick more until Blaine was sure it would splinter, but it didn’t, and he held it, bowed.

“I … I didn’t die.”

Blaine stared, dumbfounded, then he chuckled, sure that Kurt was joking. But when Kurt didn’t correct himself, Blaine stopped laughing. He saw Kurt’s eyes go hard, and his blood went cold.

“What … what do you mean?” Blaine asked. “What do you mean _you didn’t die_?”

“That’s how you succeed at The Impossible Test,” Kurt said, breaking the stick in half and tossing the pieces away. “Self-sacrifice. They give you a series of tests and challenges to solve, and when you do, you move on to the next level. The final test is a test for survival. But not _your_ survival. _Your territory’s_ survival. If you complete it correctly, you die, but your territory wins.”

Blaine shook his head. That couldn’t be right! How come no one knew about this? Why would they choose the crème de la crème from each territory just to have them _die_? Blaine didn’t want to die! He’d only turned seventeen a few months ago! He shouldn’t be expected to die! There had to be a way out!

Kurt said he got five chances. After five chances, then what?

“B-but … but you said you get five tries,” Blaine said, his heart racing with the onset of panic. “What happens after five tries? Do they put you in jail? I mean, yeah, your territory would be poor as dirt, but they let you live, right?”

Kurt didn’t look at Blaine. He didn’t answer him.

But Kurt’s non-answer _was_ an answer, and Blaine wanted to throw up.

“Hard labor for the rest of your life?” Blaine pleaded, grasping for the worst punishment he could think of as a way out of the fate he so proudly trapped himself into. “They cut off a finger? A limb? What, Kurt? What happens to you?”

Kurt looked at Blaine, his melancholy turning into pity.

“Losing all five times is the ultimate disgrace,” Kurt said. “After five times, they raze your territory to the ground … and sentence you and your whole family to death.”

 


End file.
